Part 29 (1/2)
”Perhaps you would, if you went, say, from here to Paris alone, with nothing to distract your attention. But suppose that you and I should go together, to some place where we should meet our friends, all amusing themselves, where you could talk to other women, and meet men of your own age, and lead the life people expect you to lead, just for a few weeks. You know that society will be only too glad to see something of you, whenever you choose to go near it. You are what is called a good match, and all the mothers with marriageable daughters would run after you.”
”Disgusting!” exclaimed Marcello, with contempt.
”No doubt, but it would be a wholesome change and a good test. When a young girl is determined to be a nun, she is generally made to spend a year in society, in order to make acquaintance with what she intends to give up. I don't see much difference between that and your case. Before you say good-bye for ever to your own world, find out what it is like.
At the same time, you will settle for ever any doubts you have about really loving Regina.”
”Perhaps you are right. It would only be for a few days.”
”And besides,” Folco continued, ”if you have not yet found it dull at Pontresina, you certainly will before long. There is no reason why you should lead the life of an invalid, for you are quite strong now.”
”Oh, quite. I always tell Regina so, but she insists that I am too thin, and it amuses her to take care of me.”
”Naturally. That is how you first made acquaintance. A woman who has once taken care of a man she loves wants him to be ever afterwards an invalid, for ever getting better! A man gets tired of that in time. It was a great pity you left Paris just when I came, for there are many things we could have enjoyed together there.”
”I daresay,” Marcello answered, not paying much attention to the other's words.
”Take my advice, my dear boy,” said Folco. ”Come away with me for a few days. I will wait here till you are quite ready, for of course you cannot be sure of getting off at once. You will have to prepare Regina for this.”
”Of course. I am not sure that it is possible at all.”
Folco laughed gaily.
”Anything is possible that you really wish to do,” he said.
”Regina may insist upon coming with me.”
”Nonsense. Women always submit in the end, and they never die of it.
a.s.sert yourself, Marcello! Be a man! You cannot be ordered about like a child by any woman, not even if she has saved your life, not even if she loves you to distraction. You have a right to a will of your own.”
”I know. And yet--oh, I wish I knew what I ought to do!”
”Think over all I have said, and you will see that I am right,” said Folco, rising from the table. ”And if you take my advice, you will be doing what is fair and honest by Regina as well as by yourself. Your own conscience must tell you that.”
Poor Marcello was not very sure what had become of his own conscience during the past year, and Folco's arguments swayed him as he groped for something definite to follow, and found nothing but what Corbario chose to thrust into his hand.
As they stood by the table, a servant brought a note on a little salver, holding it out to them as if he were not sure which of them was to receive it. Both glanced at the address; it was for Corbario, who took it quickly and put it into his pocket; but Marcello had recognised the handwriting--that rather cramped feminine hand of a woman who has seen better days, in which Settimia kept accounts for Regina. The latter insisted that an account should be kept of the money which Marcello gave her, and that he should see it from time to time. At the first moment, being absorbed with other matters, and inwardly much engaged in the pursuit of his own conscience, which eluded him at every turn like a figure in a dream, he paid no attention to what he had seen; but the writing had impressed itself on his memory.
They had been lunching in Folco's sitting-room, and Corbario made an excuse to go into his bedroom for a moment, saying that he wanted certain cigars that his man had put away. Marcello stood at the window gazing down the broad valley. Scarcely a minute elapsed before Folco came back with a handful of Havanas which he dropped on a writing-table.
”By the bye,” he said carelessly, ”there is another reason why you may not care to stay long in Pontresina. The Contessa and Aurora are there.”
”Are they?” Marcello turned sharply as he asked the question.
He was surprised, and at the same instant it flashed upon him that Folco had just received the information from Settimia in the note that had been brought.
”Yes,” Folco answered with a smile. ”And Pontresina is such a small place that you can hardly help meeting them. I thought I might as well tell you.”
”Thank you. Yes, it would be awkward, and unpleasant for them.”
”Precisely. The Contessa wrote me that she and Aurora had come upon you two unexpectedly in leaving a theatre, and that she had felt very uncomfortable.”